Don't Forget to Breathe

"Inhale... exhale... inhale... exhale. Inhale..... exhale.

Rub your palms together, keep them on your eyes, and now gently open your eyes. 

Thanks for sharing your energy with me. Wish you luck with the final exam."

 She wears the sheen of sweat on her youthful skin like a badge of honor and gently dabs her neck and face with a fluffy hand towel. Some students thank her, some stay back for a quick chat. I continue to pack my bag, albeit slower than the rest. 

Could she give me preliminary feedback about my performance? It wasnt due until later this week, but I want to gauge her thoughts.

"Walk to the parking together?" I ask.

She politely nods and walks out of the yoga room.

Still, avoiding me? I don't want to fail the course again. What will she think of me?  

I wait for her in the parking. Fifteen minutes later, she walks out of the Yoga studio giggling with Natasha, another instructor at the Yoga studio.

The tall brunette who could turn around any minute, flip her hair, and mouth the words, "Shiny hair, don't care." Imitating the model from any shampoo commercial. 

 Amelia! Oh God, I had lost track of time again. I stepped on the accelerator, pretending to crush my mother's guilt piled up under the pedal. I had missed her bedtime thrice this week. She threw a fit the last time Anna tried to read her a bedtime story. 

Like mother like daughter. 

I hoped that tonight Anna was able to put her to bed. Aunt and her niece were doing their best to support me on the journey of becoming a certified Yoga instructor.

"You are late. AGAIN! Are you stressed out about the test? Don't overdo the practice," Anna opened the door with a stern voice. I sensed suspicion wrapped in concern. 

I apologized and plopped myself on the sofa. Anna was not going to shut up about it any time soon.

" I don't understand. You have failed the course twice. Try a different instructor. How about that hottie Eric? He will be happy to give you that extra stretch." Anna winked and poured me a glass of chardonnay.

"You and Eric play for the same team, sis." I take a big gulp and continue. " She still avoids me. I thought we were way past what happened. I am her student. Why can't she give me early feedback? What is the worse that could happen? I will perform better than other students?" I continued, and like always, Anna heard me with a lot of patience.

That is who I was, relentless, stubborn, and determined, especially after my last failed attempt. Sure, there were a few remarks about my postures and incorrect breathing technique. But that didn't seem enough to fail someone. What a load of bull C#$%! 

She was avenging me for the birthday present fiasco that took place few days before my first exam. Hand-picked roses, chocolates, and expensive wine had crossed the "professional line" Pffff! The charade of returning the gifts and throwing my loving note reduced me to a cheap roadside Romeo! Who is she? a celebrity?  

 I had swallowed my pride and apologized. We both knew that clients with deep pockets like mine were hard to come by in a small town. So basically, I was doing HER a favor.

A week ago, I wired the money and was informed about today's time and location. 

 I step out of the car and walk towards her limp body lying on the hot suburban road. The helmet was intact, and the handlebars of her bike peeked from a bush on the sidewalk.  

She will survive. 

 A group of people in their early 20s surrounded her. 

What the hell am I thinking? I turn around and put faith in my wobbly knees to make it to the car. 

"Hey, you know her? A voice from the crowd stops me in my heels. 

Shit!

"What? i don't."

"You both have the same Yoga studio jacket. so i thought.."

"ah, is it? I might. Did someone call the ambulance?"

"Yes, they are on their way," the girl signals me to come closer.

 I am strolling, allowing my thoughts to lead the way. I should have driven away. What if she recognizes me? There is no way she suspects.

 The girl holds my hand and makes way for me. 

I kneel and watch her groan in pain.

"Hey.. don't worry. Someone will look after you." I feign compassion.

"Remember .. inhale... exhale.. inhale .. exhale.. you will be all right. "

I cannot guess if she is shocked. 

I am not confident if I am mocking her.

"Mum, what's that?" Amelie pointed to the oxygen mask. 

"That is an oxygen mask. It is helping her breathe."

She seems agitated in her sleep. That is not a good look on a Yoga teacher!

Amelie's get well soon card founds its way on the small side table crowded with medicines and water bottles. I am nervous and relieved to see her alive. My intention wasn't to kill her. No way! I loved her. OK, love is a stretch; I am crazy about her.

There wasn't much to look at in the room. The usual crowd of machines beeping and humming in an unorderly fashion. There are no flowers.  The accident hasn't reached the local media yet. 

I sit on the chair with stained upholstery. She opens her eyes, and my heart skips a beat.

"Mum, look, she is awake!"

 Her eyes follow Amelia's voice. 

"Yes, honey, but you must keep quiet and not disturb her. It's time to go. She should rest now." 

I cannot bear to talk to her. I get up to leave, and she signals me to stay.

Like an obedient child, I comply, and she turns her gaze away. 

Amelia whispers in my ear, "Mom, look, it's the police."

The officers are outside her room talking to the nurse.

I clutch my knees and swallow the lump size of my pride stuck in my throat. Is my heartbeat too loud? I am biting my lip.

These are the tell-tale signs of a nervous, NO, guilty woman.

I watch her staring at me. The officers are now making their way inside.

 She removes the oxygen mask, and with a transfixed gaze, says,

 "don't be nervous. ...inhale... exhale.. inhale.. exhale.."